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Once I saw a handsome brig which had failed to leave the harbor soon enough stagger in upon the rocks where it seemed her masts might fall into our own grounds, and grandmamma told me that thus my father, though born in the island, had first met my mother. Si' Myra was a Congo. She believed the Obi priests could boil water without fire, and in many ways cause frightful woes.

Shorty climbed over the fence and stood at the edge of the road, with his gun at order arms. Si came out on Shorty's left, and a rebel appeared to the right of the first. For a minute all stood in expectancy. Then Shorty spoke: "I want nuthin' but what's fair. Your gun's empty; so's mine. You probably know Hardee's tactics as well as I do." "I'm up in Hardee," said the rebel with a firm voice.

Well, Si hadn't more than finished before the whole crowd was off whooping down the street toward Binder's. As soon as they got in range of the house they began shooting at the windows and yelling for him to come out if he was a man, but it appeared that Binder wasn't a man leastways, he didn't come out and investigation showed that he was streaking it back for Connecticut.

I must have stayed thus for a full minute before I drew myself back and looked up at the old mountaineer. His eyes gazed down into mine with mad intensity. "Si! si!" he whispered. "What didst thou hear?" "I heard a long surging thunder, Paolo, and the deep shrill screaming of many gas jets." He bent down, with livid face.

I am ashamed of them and myself, and the human craft of writing, which, though commoner far, is so miserably behind the godlike art of speech: "Si ipsam audivisses!"

It's a wonder to me they don't all hev it." "Mebbe yer right, Mrs. Stickles. 'Abraham is certainly a big eater. But it wasn't eatin' which gave 'im the delapitation yesterday." "What was it, then?" "It was Si Farrington who gave it to 'im. That's who it was." "Ugh!" ejaculated Mrs. Stickles. "Surely a cur like that wouldn't affect anyone, would it?

His voice sounded incredulous. "Don't you believe me?" she cried, rather hotly. "Ma si, Signorina! Only that's not very Sicilian, if the rest is English. You are English, Signorina, aren't you?" "The rest of me is. Are you all Sicilian?" "Signorina, my mother is Sicilian." "And your father, too?" "Signorina, my father is dead," he said, in a changed voice.

Some pitied the father, many defended the mother: it did not depend upon your sex; sides were taken freely and voices were shrill when neither was by. Down by the river especially, upon that bleached board below the bridge, ci and si whistled like the wind in the chimneys, and the hands of testimony were as the aspen leaves when storms are in.

Si!" the old caretaker declared, delighted at the sensation he had caused, "I came across him all huddled up by yonder column." "And may I really have him?" queried Andrea, finding it hard to realize that he had gained his heart's desire. "Why not? I doubt if the old birds will even notice he has gone.

So she rose from a couch which at least demanded perfect physical health ere one could find rest on it, and, being fully dressed, went forth at once to drink the steaming hot coffee that filled the tiny hut with its fragrance. "A fine morning, Pietro?" she asked, addressing the man who had summoned her. "Si, sigñora. Dawn is breaking with good promise.